


if

by survivalinstinctvalkyria



Series: our ashes fall over us (keichi relationship issues - oneshots) [2]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: All of the r18 is at the end this isn't just 11k words of nsfw, Anal Sex, Angst, Emotional Porn, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Porn With Plot, Slow Burn, back to naming fics after imas songs, thank you to cj for helping me tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:01:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivalinstinctvalkyria/pseuds/survivalinstinctvalkyria
Summary: If I had kissed you,I wouldn't be unpleased.Don't make me say things likeWomen are always waiting.//For as long as he can remember, Keito has been afraid to touch Eichi.





	if

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acciss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acciss/gifts), [guiltykissmyass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guiltykissmyass/gifts).



> It's finally done!!
> 
> Thank you to Cj (guiltykissmyass on ao3) and Isabel for being betas, I really appreciate it!
> 
> This is so long?? I hope someone enjoys this, I lost a lot of sleep over it
> 
> To quote Cj when reading the r18 bit: "this is too emotional for anime boy porn"
> 
> But also thank you to Cj for telling me how to write the r18 bits

Walking home by Eichi's side, Keito pays attention to Eichi's profile more than the sidewalk. When he stumbles, Eichi laughs at him.

“Aren't you supposed to be composed?” Eichi asks, placing a hand on Keito's shoulder to steady him. The touch seems to send electric sparks all throughout Keito's body, like a rock dropped in a pond.

He pulls away abruptly.

Maybe that dip in Eichi's smile is a pout, but Keito's learned his lesson, and doesn't focus on it. Instead, his eyes wander, landing on a couple walking ahead of them.

Their hands are intertwined, the woman leaning against her boyfriend. Keito wonders what it'd feel like if Eichi leaned against his side like that (he can't see himself  _ ever _ being that affectionate in public), he wonders if Eichi ever daydreams about scenarios like these.

In theory, they shouldn't need to stay as daydreams—the two of them have been dating for a while now, after all, but Keito just can't let himself touch Eichi so easily.

It probably started with those nightmares he'd have as a kid, those nightmares in which every time Keito tried to pat Eichi's head, the poor boy would break like a porcelain doll. And those nightmares were Keito's own fault, too, the aftermath of the one time that Keito's frustration had taken him too far when they were kids, and he had ended up pushing Eichi hard enough to send him reeling back and making him hit his head on the small, pointed fence lining the gardens.

For a reason Keito still can't understand, Eichi never blamed it on him, instead saying that he had grown light-headed and had neglected to tell Keito. But those lies were no match for the guilt that plagued Keito like the foul smell of a city.

It took awhile for Keito to be able to pat Eichi's head again.

“Wouldn't it be nice if we could hold hands like that couple?” Eichi's voice cuts through Keito's thoughts like a plane flying overhead—distant, but undeniably there.

Before Keito can say anything, Eichi's fingers are laced with his, and he can feel the blonde's heat and he leans his body into Keito's.

“That's better,” he coos against Keito's blazer.

Eichi's hand is soft and delicate in Keito's, like he's cradling a piece of origami in his hand. His entire presence is just…  _ light _ , and there's nothing to reassure Keito that he won't disappear, that if he tightens his grip around Eichi's hand and leans his head against the blonde's, he won't crumble under the weight and break into thousands of pieces.

Keito pulls his hand away.

“You're such a bad boyfriend,” Eichi speaks up, a pout forming at his lips as Keito takes a step away from him.

“Shut up, Eichi.” The words fall past Keito's lips naturally, but there's no way he'd ever mean them—not when hearing that gentle lilt of Eichi's voice is the one thing that can assure him that the other boy's still  _ alive. _

“Geez, you're such a tsundere.”

“I'm not.” But Keito isn't protesting strongly, not like he can when it's easier to admit that than admit to Eichi what he really thinks.

* * *

 

“What was your first kiss with Tenshouin like?”

Kuro's utter lack of subtly has to be at least a little impressive. No one else could be so abrasive around someone like Keito.

“W-Why on Earth would I tell you?”

Kuro shrugs. “I don't know. I was wondering about ‘Yumenosaki’s power couple’, is all.”

“The only reason people think of us like that is because of our position at the top of Yumenosaki,” Keito grumbles, hoping that Kuro will lay it off.

“You don't think the two of you are a good couple, you mean.”

“Eichi and I have never kissed and probably never will, is what I mean!” Keito snaps, still not looking up from the paperwork.

Kuro gives him a look of surprise. “Wait, are you serious?”

Keito sighs. “I am.”

“You're so in love with him I would've never known,” Kuro tells him. “Plus, you said your first gay crisis was 'cause of him. The idea that you gave me was that you two kissed to try it out when you were in junior high and that started your gay crisis.”

_ I wish,  _ Keito thinks, before correcting himself. “Of course not."

“Is there a reason you haven't kissed him? It really does seem surprising.”

“I just-” Keito clenches a fist around his pen. “I don't want to hurt him. It's probably stupid, but… I just feel like I'll end up breaking him if I let myself touch him, that I'll dirty him or something. I can't even hold his damn hand.”

“What, do you have a purity fetish?”

“No!” Keito practically yelps. “It's not that, not that at all! I won't even tell you if you're going to be like that!”

A low, rumbling chuckle falls past Kuro's lips. “Joking. But does he not want to kiss you, or…?"

“He’s tried to a few times, so, uh, yeah. At least I think.”

“Then trust him. If he believes that he's safe with you, you don't have a reason to make him think otherwise.”

Keito doesn't say anything, he doesn't know  _ what _ to say, but he nods, and Kuro smiles, satisfied.

* * *

 

The two of them—Keito and Eichi—are lying on Keito's bed, Eichi reading a book as Keito draws.

It's no mystery who he's drawing, anyone with half a brain could make a guess, but he does his best to tilt his sketchbook in a direction that Eichi can't see.

“It looks good."

So much for that.

Eichi's head is tucked against Keito's shoulder, his entire body flush against Keito's. It's a wonder Keito hadn't realized how their position changed, but now that he has, he can't help that nervous shrill that goes down his back.

Trying as best he can to be gentle, he lightly pushes Eichi off of him.

“You weren't supposed to see it.”

“Oh, come on. Your muse should be able to see the drawings that they inspire, right?” Eichi grins at him, betraying the slight pout on his face. “And let me cuddle you. You're my boyfriend but you won't even hold my hand. It's like you're afraid of touching me. I want a kiss, Keito.”

_ I am, _ Keito's thoughts betray him.

“What difference does it make to you?” All of the difference, Keito knows, because it's the same for him. “And you're being unreasonable,” he says instead.

Eichi doesn't even bother with words, pushing himself atop of Keito so that he's nestled against Keito's chest, their legs tangled together.

“I'm nooot,” he whines. “I waited for you, Keito, I waited for you to reach my heart.” Taking Keito's hand in his—Keito's deathly stillness only making it easy—he props himself up on his elbows so that he can place Keito's hand over his heart. “And sometimes I think I'm still waiting.”

It's unfair that Eichi can manage things like this; it's unfair that Keito actually finds himself lured in by Eichi's pulse rather than being repulsed by it. Instead of scaring him into backing away, it excites him, urging the blood to rise to his ears, giving him the faint sense of being alive.

“It's just one kiss, right?”

“Yep, just one.” Eichi grins. “But I wouldn't mind a second, or maybe a third.”

“You're pushing your luck.”

“Mm, shut up and kiss me.” Eichi's definitely looking forward to this—his eyes are shut delicately, head slightly tilted—and for once, Keito can't help but indulge him.

(Well, he's actually indulging  _ himself _ , but that's not something he wants to acknowledge.)

Their lips meet gently, brushing against each other like the touch of a breeze. Surely, this isn't a  _ real _ kiss, one of the passionate kisses that leaves you breathless and unable to think about anything but your love for the person you're kissing, but it's  _ nice. _

The first thing that sticks out to Keito is how soft Eichi's lips are. Even with a proper idol's skincare routine, there's no way Keito's lips aren't at least a little chapped. Eichi's, on the other hand, are soft as silk. The warm breath Keito feels against his lips is like a drug, and he wonders if all of Eichi tastes like this—so wonderfully warm, comforting, and sweet. And even if it isn't much of a kiss, it still seems to satisfy Eichi, who hums softly.

It's not until Eichi reaches up to lay a palm on Keito's chest that he remembers how fragile he is, how just behind those soft lips is a frail infrastructure that could shatter with the slightest of touches.

He's taking something from Eichi, taking unsaid promises from the gaps of his mouth, promises of a future with no one else but Keito.

God, he needs to stop this before he seriously does something to hurt Eichi.

Abruptly pulling back, he catches a glimpse of Eichi's eyes still closed, innocent and unaware of his own fragility, of Keito's disgusting wish to make the blonde his entirely.

“Keito?” he speaks up after a pause, eyes meeting with Keito's. Those mirror-like eyes of his seem to stare straight into Keito's soul, and it's a wonder Eichi can't see right through him.

“You're okay, Eichi? Absolutely?”

“What?”

“You're not hurt, right?” His palm goes up to gently brush some of the hair away from Eichi's face.

“We just kissed. Why would I be hurt?” Eichi's brows are furrowed now, some mix of confusion and frustration that only wells up Keito's guilt further.

“Because I— do you know who you are?”

Eichi raises a brow. “Yes…?”

“Then you should understand how hard it is to touch you and not worry about these kinds of things!” Keito snaps. He wishes Eichi would just get off of him, because he can't find it in himself to shove him and risk hurting him.

“Is that why I had to wait until my last year of high school—just a few months before graduating and becoming an adult—to experience my first kiss?” Eichi narrows his eyes at Keito, not relenting as he leans further over Keito. “Everyone normal got to experience their first kiss when they were thirteen, or so, right? Because it's stupid things like that that make up youth, isn't it? But I didn't get a youth, Keito, because I was confined to a hospital bed my entire life. Because IV drips and exhaustion kept me bound to my bed. Through all of that, you were my door to those kinds of youthful things, but even so, you never let me reach them."

“I never said I had to be your first kiss,” Keito interjects, but Eichi shakes his head.

“I’m not going to throw away something precious just because I want to experience youth. Since the notion of  _ firsts  _ came into my head, I wanted you to be my first. But even though I sat around and waiting for you while watching my youth crumble away, you never did anything—you just sat there and told me to sit still, like I wasn't already unmoving!”

“Do you want me to go put you in risky situations? Are you asking to die?”

“That's not it at all, you idiot! I don't need you to hold my hand as I jump from skyscrapers or anything, I just want you to treat me like a  _ real person _ .” His grip on Keito's shirt tightens as he enunciates the words. “Do you have any idea how miserable it feels to have the one person you put absolute faith in to drag you out of your wretched existence treat you like some porcelain doll that needs to be locked away!?”

Keito's eyes widen, watching the anger contort Eichi's features with a deathly stillness.

“I—  Eichi, if you really want to, I cou—”

“Forget it,” Eichi snaps. He pushes himself off Keito, moving to sit at the foot of the bed. “I'm not in the mood anymore.”

“ _ Eichi. _ ”

“I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, haven't I?” Eichi ignores Keito. “I don't want to intrude, so I'll be going now. Have a good day, Keito."

* * *

 

Keito isn't sure about where their relationship stands after that.

Sure, it's not like he expected them to be the perfect couple—no fights, no arguments, no secrets, nothing—when they first got together, but he can't say he could've expected something like this.

This is different than an argument sparked by something petty, a childish little quarrel between childhood friends, it's something born of their two ideals clashing. Maybe all of those times when Eichi had overexerted himself for no reason were just so that he could show Keito that he wouldn't get hurt, he wouldn't die or break into a million pieces.

“Are you alright, Vice President-sama?”

Ah, right, he's not alone, is he. He must've spaced out during archery practice, his bow resting in his hand.

“I'm fine, Fushimi,” he responds, maybe a little too harshly, because Yuzuru makes a face at him. “Thanks for your concern, though,” he adds.

A knowing smile plays out over Yuzuru's lips, and he shakes his head. “I'm not so easy to fool. The young master is like this sometimes. You can trust me with your ailments, Vice President-sama.”

“I shouldn't bring you into these kinds of personal issues.”

“It's not trouble for me. Rather, it'd make me incredibly happy to be of use.”

Keito purses his brow. “Why are you like this?”

And Fushimi laughs. “It's how I was raised, I'm afraid.”

“Just give it up. Archery club is for archery, not chit-chatting.”

“Just as student council meetings are for work and camaraderie, not lovers’ quarrels.”

“ _ You _ —”

“Please do not forget,” Yuzuru interjects, “President-sama is the leader of my unit, and this will have an effect on his mental state, and therefore hamper on his performance in idol activities. That being said, this is hardly me meddling in your business.”

Keito sighs. Of course, he can count on his juniors to poke their noses into his own personal issues. Perhaps, he should be thankful for it, but he's stubborn.

“What are you trying to get out of this?”

Yuzuru's smile fades by the briefest degree, as he shakes his hands in front of him as if to say  _ no, it's not that at all! _

“I already told you, I just want to help my upperclassmen. And I even gave you reason enough to believe that this is something of relevance to me, you don't need to doubt me.”

Another sigh falls past Keito's lips. “Fine, then, what do you want me to tell you?”

Yuzuru's neutral expression—that eerily pleasant smile—has returned. “I'd like to try and offer you advice. Please feel free to confide in me.”

Keito stays silent for a moment, ultimately deciding that it can't hurt. Leaning against the wall, he looks up and thinks of Eichi's face as he recounts their fight. “Eichi and I got into a fight because he doesn't want me to treat him like a doll. He said he felt miserable since the one person who always gave him hope of a normal life has been treating him like someone who needs to be quarantined. I mean, I get where he's coming from, but… everytime I touch him, even if it's just a brush of our hands, I end up worrying. I know he hates it, but even so… I just keep doing it.”

Yuzuru nods slowly, clearly contemplating the situation. That's the nice thing about Yuzuru, he never rushes into things without thinking them through, and is always careful in his deliberations. Even if Keito finds himself annoyed by his meddling nature, he can't help but appreciate that.

“I think…” Yuzuru starts pensively, “You shouldn't limit these kinds of conversations to moments where the two of you exchange physical contact. If you do, that means you will only be talking about it on moments where you are nervous and the President expects more than you can provide. Take it slow, maybe try caressing his cheek or cuddling him gently or something like that to get used to touching him. I'm sure that once President-sama understands your hesitation, he'll appreciate those little efforts.”

This is what Keito means when he says he appreciates Yuzuru—the way he can be both a counselor and something of a friend at the same time.

“I don't think I could…”

“Have you thought about cuddling him before?”

Keito's face turns red.  _ God _ , he has, he's done it so many times that he can play a daydream of the two of them lying in bed together the same way someone can recall a movie they've watched hundreds of times.

“A few times, yes,” he answers, a white lie that evokes a raised brow out of Yuzuru, but nothing more.

“Then remember that he probably has, too. It's not like archery, Vice President-sama, because it doesn't just take one shot to get it right. There's no  _ bullseye  _ to grant you and automatic victory. You just need to keep trying again and again until you finally reach the place you need to be.”

“And once I've reached it, the bullseye will be right in front of me, correct?"

“Yes, I believe so.”

The hint of a smile curves onto Keito's features. “I think I can handle that.”

* * *

 

It's funny in a way, the fact that Eichi's work efforts seem to triple once he starts ignoring Keito. Maybe it's his distraction, his excuse, but it's still endearing to watch him put so much effort into his work.

Eichi sneezes, shivering a little in his seat. Despite the student council's efforts to get heating for the room, a chill still runs through it, and it must be taking its toll on Eichi's health.

Without thinking, Keito takes off his blazer, getting up and out of his seat to walk towards Eichi's. Eichi doesn't notice Keito's presence as he gets closer, only startling a bit once Keito wraps the blazer around his shoulders and impulsively presses a kiss to the side of his neck.

“If it's too cold, say something, you idiot,” he chides, pulling back to watch how Eichi shivers slightly, though this time not from the cold.

“Keito?” He turns around to face Keito, face a bit red. “Geez,  _ you're  _ the idiot. Don't just come up and kiss someone's neck. Gross.”

“I just thought it was okay, since we're dating,” Keito replies. “Unless you, uh, want to—”

“I never said I wanted to break up,” Eichi grumbles.

_ He… never wanted to? _

After everything that Eichi had said to Keito, it's a miracle he didn't punch him for trying to go soft on him.

“Wait, really?”

“It’s not like I could. Even though I'm angry, I still love you.” The last bit is mumbled out, hardly audible, but Keito's exceptionally good hearing can be a saving grace. Lifting his palm, he gently brings it to stroke through Eichi's hair.

“I love you, too,” he whispers. “That's why I wanted to talk about it instead of just ignoring it like we're prone to doing.”

“Okay. Pull up a seat.”

With his free hand, Keito pulls Mao's chair next to Eichi's, taking a seat as he brings his other hand down to card it through the hair on the back of Eichi's head.

“I’ll start,” Keito says. “I thought about it, and I'm sorry; I should've known it would upset you. You don't need to forgive me.”

“I’m not that selfish,” Eichi pouts. “You were scared, and I just guilt-tripped you. I'm sorry, too. But can you at least tell me why you got so worried? Is there a reason you won't touch me?”

“Do you remember that time I pushed you and you hit your head on the garden fence?”

“Yes? That was forever ago, wasn't it?”

“I've had nightmares about it.”

Concern morphs onto Eichi's features, and he reaches out to touch Keito's cheek. His touch is feather-light, and Keito has half the mind not to just pull away, but he stays put.

“That was why? You should've told me, Keito, if I'd understood then I could've helped you or something."

“You don't need to do anything, Eichi. I hurt you, and I paid the price.”

“I never cared about you hurting me. But you've had nightmares because of me, and you're afraid to touch me. It's all my fault, and yet I still got mad at you for everything.”

“It's not your fault.”

Eichi ignores him, and Keito notices that tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. “You can't touch me, you've had nightmares, and it's all my fault. Even though you were only being gentle out of care I twisted your motives and guilt-tripped you. God, I'm gonna be sick—”

“ _ Eichi. _ ” Both of Keito's hands go to grab onto Eichi's, cradling them in his own. Eichi's eyes meet Keito's and widen, surprised by the sudden contact. “Listen to me. I'm not angry, so stop telling yourself that I am. If anything, I'm mad at myself for making you cry. But this isn't the time to be angry, we can't help each other if we are.”

“You're really going to forgive me just like that? I'm sorry, Keito, but I can't accept that.”

A moment of silence fills the air between them, tension cutting against their skin like knives. After a moment of thinking, Keito speaks up. “If you really want to ‘repent’ that badly, I do have something I'd like you to agree to.”

“Of course, Keito. What is it?”

It's not one thing, or even an organized list of things, just a whirlwind of emotions that Keito is trying to put to words.

“If you ever feel like crying, find me and let me give you my shoulder,” Keito starts, tightening his grip on Eichi's hands. “If you're afraid of something, hide your face in my chest and let me hold you. If you're tired, let me carry you and sing you lullabies. If you're hurt, let me kiss your injuries and comfort you. If you're angry, tell me why and let me help you through it. If you're confused about something, let me explain it to you. If you just want to be with someone, call me and let me hold you in my lap. Let me… let me hold your hand, and cuddle you, and kiss you, and everything else; even if I can't do it now, I'll practice, I promise. Let me fluster you and flirt with you even if it's embarrassing. Let me draw you even when you think you look ugly. Let me love you as much as I want. Let me be there for you, Eichi.”

Eichi's hands tremble in Keito's hold, tears now freely falling down his face. Without a word, he leans out of his chair to bury his face in Keito's shoulder. Only then does he choose to let loose, sobbing uncontrollably against Keito's shirt.

Keito's hands move of their own volition, releasing Eichi's hands to gather the other boy on his arms and pull him into his lap, holding him against his chest so that Eichi's side lay against Keito's stomach and his legs rest over the chair's armrest.

“K-Keito,” he sobs. “I-I'm sorry…”

“Shh, it's okay. Let yourself break down once in a while, Eichi, it's no good to just keep all of those emotions pent up.”

Eichi nods against his shoulder, something sounding like a hiccup being muffled against Keito's shoulder. It's an odd feeling, having all of Eichi's body weight pressed against him, a feeling that sends nervous shivers down Keito's fingertips, but it's bearable, and he can't say holding Eichi firmly against his chest is something he would be opposed to doing again.

“Y-You're so nice to me, Keito. Thank you.”

“Of course; I love you, Eichi.”

“M-Me, too. Keito, let's practice together.”

“Hm?”

“You can practice holding me and kissing me. It's okay if it takes a long time.”

Keito smiles against Eichi's head, tightening his hold on the blonde ever so slightly.

“I'll put my all into it, Eichi.”

* * *

 

“Hey, Keito, I'm bored of working,” Eichi says suddenly, lounging on Keito's bed. He's dressed in one of Keito's oversized baseball-tees and a pair of Keito's boxers—the combination of how cute he is in oversized clothes and just the sheer nature of having his boyfriend wearing his clothes and looking comfortable in them (which is probably the most couple-esque scenario Keito can think of) had been too much for Keito's heart, who had settled at his desk and started working as soon as they got home.

“You can read the manga I have up on the shelves. But don't mess up the organization, or I'll ban you from entering my room.”

Eichi fake-gasps. “I wouldn't dare.” He pushes himself off the bed, walking over to Keito's desk. Leaning over Keito from behind his chair, he begins to wrap his arms around Keito's neck, but hesitates.

“I'm fine if you do that,” Keito sighs, and Eichi hums as his arms loop around Keito's neck, head tucked in right next to Keito's.

“Why don't you let yourself have a break so we can have fun together? C'mon, Keito, I can think of so many better bonding activities for us! Especially considering that it's just the two of us here!”

Keito's face turns red, and he trembles in Eichi's grasp. “You don't seriously mean that you want us to do  _ that _ right now!” he barks.

“What?” Eichi's tone is a bit disappointed yet playful. “I wanted a hug, Keito. What, you're not even going to give me a hug?”

“N-No, I just thought you meant…  _ those  _ kinds of activities.” He gestures loosely towards the bed.

Eichi glances between the bed and Keito's profile, before breaking out into laughter. “See, all the work is making you scatterbrained!”

Keito scowls. “It's your fault for wording it like that…!”

“There was nothing lewd about how I worded it!”

“You said ‘bonding activities we can only do in private’,  what did you think I would assume!?”

“You're so afraid of showing me affection that I thought something like a hug would be too much for you!"

_ This brat. _

“Oh, you shut up!”

Before Eichi can answer, Keito is turning around in his chair, impulsively grabbing onto Eichi's face so that he can pull him into a kiss. Well, not so much a kiss as it is him pressing his lips against Eichi's roughly, but it's enough to make his head spin.

“Who's afraid to show affection now!?”

Eichi's face blooms red and he sputters, looking absolutely flustered in Keito's grasp. “A-Ah, I, um…”

It takes a moment for it to reach Keito that he just kissed Eichi  _ roughly _ without a warning or anything, and in a panic, he quickly releases Eichi.

“Sorry…! I shouldn't have done that, Eichi, I'm sorry. Are you alright?”

After a moment looking like a flustered mess, Eichi speaks up, averting his eyes from Keito's. “You're so unfair,” he mutters.

“What?”

Without a word, Eichi cups Keito's cheeks, leaning down to kiss him gently. This is  _ nice _ , just the two of them breathing in sync against each other's lips, and even though Keito's still confused, mind riddled with teenage hormones, he closes his eyes to kiss Eichi back.

“We should properly kiss more often, you're a nice kisser,” Eichi says against his lips after pulling back. “And  _ no _ , just roughly catching me by surprise like that doesn't count as a kiss.”

“Well, I'm sorry. You provoked me!” Keito's eyes part to reveal Eichi smiling in front of him, and it's almost tempting to kiss him again. “But yeah, I'll try not to do that anymore. Kissing softly like that is…”

“Is…?” Eichi prompts, tilting his head in mock innocence as he teases Keito.

“It's nice, Bastard,” Keito finishes, looking away so that he doesn't need to try and avoid Eichi's gaze—because as much as he hates it, it's impossible to ignore eyes as brilliant as his. “I think I can get used to kissing you if it's just like this.”

“That's good.” Eichi smiles, all full of warmth that it burns right to Keito's soul. “I still want a hug, though; is that alright with you?"

“Fine,” Keito grumbles, getting up from out of his seat. He turns to face Eichi, holding his arms out. “Here.”

Eichi practically throws himself into Keito's embrace, sending Keito stumbling back a few steps before regaining his footing. Eichi giggles stupidly, leaning all of his weight against Keito even though he  _ knows  _ Keito isn't that strong.

“Brat.”

“You love this brat,” Eichi retorts.

“I'm not gonna love you when you get yourself hurt and land us both in the hospital.”

“Oh, but before you told me that if I ever got hurt you would kiss my injuries and comfort me. Was that a lie?”

Keito's face turns red, and he's glad Eichi can't see his face in their position. “No, it wasn't,” he mumbles.

“Good,” Eichi lilts. “But your arms are trembling, Keito.”

“They are?” Now that it's been brought to his attention, Keito can see that yes, his arms are shaking around Eichi's body. “Oh, I didn't realize. Sorry.”

“It's alright—I told you to take your time, didn't I?”

“You did, but I don't want to keep you waiting.”

“I don't want you to keep me waiting, either, but what can I do.”

Keito steps on Eichi's foot. “You're ruining the mood.”

“There was a mood?”

“Yes, you idiot.” Keito steadies his grip on Eichi, one trembling hand drifting under Eichi's shirt to caress the small of his back.

“Ooh, scandalous,” Eichi jokes, arching back into the touch.

“Your skin is soft, that's all.”

“You're no fun.”

“You're incorrigible.” He glances at the clock. “We've wasted too much time, let's get back to work.”

“Only if we can cuddle as we work,” Eichi challenges, not releasing Keito from his now iron grip.

“Okay,” Keito agrees.

Eichi hums affirmatively for a moment, before freezing. “Wait, really? What happened to my Keito that never wanted to cuddle or kiss or anything?"

“Fine, then, we won't cuddle. And don't call me 'my Keito’.”

“What's wrong with it?” Eichi asks, before his voice goes quiet. “If it makes you feel better, I'm your Eichi.”

“My Eichi,” Keito repeats, before smiling. “My Eichi."

“Whoa, what about that put _ you  _ in a good mood?”

“I don't know. The way you said it was cute, I guess.”

“Geez, you're reading too much manga; you're such a flirt when we're alone.”

Keito ignores Eichi's whining, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “I love you, my Eichi.”

Eichi's face is absolutely red as he responds. “I love you, too, my Keito.”

* * *

 

Keito's gotten much better at touching Eichi—he's proud to say that he can hold Eichi's hand without hesitation.

Those kinds of things are much easier in situations like this one: the two of them are walking to a cafe in the cold, and since Eichi's an idiot he didn't bring gloves and scarf, so the two of them are sharing a single scarf, wearing one glove each, their bare hands intertwined.

Eichi seems more interested in the snow than in their proximity, looking up at it in wonder as it falls down and brushes against his nose. He sticks his tongue out to try and catch a few of the flakes, childish delight shining in his eyes.

He's radiant.

“Eichi,” he calls, and when the blonde turns to look at him, he gently kisses him.

It's such an intimate moment to share with Eichi out in the open, but he can't help it, nerves calming down as he feels Eichi's eyelashes tickle him.

When they pull apart, their breath, visible from the chill, mingles together, and Keito leans back in for an Eskimo kiss.

Eichi's eyes are bright and twinkling, like snowflakes, but they don't melt or disappear. Instead, they become diamonds, unwavering against Keito's gaze.

Keito's lips meet his neck softly, almost teasingly as they brush against the soft skin. Eichi's neck is wonderful—pale, smooth skin stretched over an expanse that bridges the blonde’s jaw to his collarbone, containing the perfect junction for Keito to kiss and feel the other's pulse against his lips.

“It tickles,” he hears Eichi whisper, in an affectionate tone that makes his heart melt. He retracts himself from Eichi's neck to watch the blonde's breath spilling from past his lips into the air, a bit faster than normal due to his raised heart rate.

His heart is beating faster like that for  _ Keito _ .

“Absolutely radiant,” he whispers, positive that Eichi has no idea what he's talking about.

Without hesitating, Keito leans forward to kiss his neck again, clutching Eichi's hand tightly in his own.

* * *

 

After a few weeks, Keito and Eichi are kissing a lot more. Mostly it's just chaste, affectionate kisses, but as of late, their lips have been staying locked for longer, sometimes even leaving the two of them breathless.

The first time that Keito's tongue slips into Eichi's mouth, it's completely accidental. Well, not so much accidental as the fact that Keito couldn't help it with Eichi's lips parted against his own. Eichi gasps, and in that moment, Keito can't help pushing Eichi down against the bed, leaning over him as they deepen the kiss.

So  _ this  _ is what making out feels like. It's undeniably awkward, but Keito's drunk on the moment, the feeling of Eichi's body as Keito's hands drift over the boy under him. When his lips drift down to sloppily suck at Eichi's neck, the blonde takes in sharp breath, whimpering quietly.

Keito draws back in an instant, raising a hand to cover his mouth.

“W-Why are you stopping?” Eichi asks, letting his eyes crack open to look up at Keito.

“I'm sorry, Eichi, I just—  I got nervous, and I don't think I can let myself go any further like this; I'm sorry.”

Eichi reaches a trembling finger up to press it against Keito's lips.

“It's alright. We can keep practicing.”

That's right, they'll keep practicing. They'll keep practicing until Keito trusts himself to touch Eichi, until they can cuddle without being afraid of Keito’s nerves interrupting them.

But really, how long is Eichi willing to wait?

* * *

 

Not long, apparently, because after school the next day the two of them are sitting together at a cafe, and Eichi has the audacity to unbutton the first few buttons on his shirt, exposing his collarbone for the world to see.

“It's nice that they have heating here, but it's getting a little stuffy, isn't it?”

Keito's face goes red, not resting as his eyes focus in on the bead of sweat the rolls down Eichi's neck.

“Hm, enjoying the view, Keito?”

Their eyes meet briefly, Eichi's containing a mischief that twists something in Keito's heart.

“Not so much enjoying it as questioning it,” he answers. “Seriously, if you're trying to flirt or something, just quit it.”

Eichi rests his chin in his palm, looking away. “You've been so dismissive of me ever since that time that we kind of made out,” he pouts. His shoe meets Keito's ankle in a swift kick.

“Do you seriously think that if we're put into that kind of situation you won't get hurt?”

Eichi stays silent for a moment. “I don't really mind if it's you, Keito.”

Their eyes meet again, both of their faces shifting in color as they try to explore this new side of each other. Keito is the first to look away, but Eichi's gaze stays trained on Keito's figure, boring holes into him.

“When we made an agreement, 'if you're horny’ was not one of the things covered.”

“That's not it, Keito,” Eichi chides, expression surprisingly stern. “I don't like how you're holding yourself back. You said you wouldn't hold back, but you are. Isn't this the quickest way to force you out of that rut?”

“By getting the two of us to engage in sexual intercourse?”

Eichi scoffs. “Wow, Keito, you're really helping the sexual tension I was going for.”

“We're in public.”

“I know, but still… I just don't want you to treat me like a doll.”

“By doing this?”

“Nn, you're dense as a rock, Keito,” Eichi whines, leaning back in his seat. “If you're gonna be like that then forget it.”

* * *

 

Between the time they got to Eichi's mansion to now, Eichi had managed to discard his blazer, unbutton his shirt completely, lie down on his bed, and pull Keito over him. Considering it wasn't that much time, Keito has to admit he's impressed.

But he doesn't approve it at all. There's only so many conclusions he can come to as he hovers over the boy under him and is pulled into a kiss.

“Eichi, we aren't seriously going to do this,” he manages to get out between kisses.

“We don't have to if you're not comfortable, but you should at least kiss me back,” Eichi replies, before connecting their lips again.

“No, I—” he starts, but then Eichi's lips are parted against his and he almost lets himself be tempted into parting his own. Abruptly, he pushes Eichi back against the bed.

“If we keep going, I might end up going too far and hurting you. Just button up your shirt.” He tries to get off of Eichi, but Eichi grabs his shoulder.

“So it's not because I'm making you uncomfortable, it's because you're afraid of hurting me.” Eichi's eyes hold a flame, and Keito finds himself unable to meet his gaze. His vision brushes over Eichi's chest, practically glued to that scar that run over his front.

Eichi notices. “Do you think I'm weak because of that scar?”

Keito can't respond in words, he doesn't know how to tell Eichi what he really feels without offending him.

“You do, huh.” Eichi doesn't sound angry, more exasperated. “Look, Keito, you don't need to be afraid for me because of that scar.” He leans up and presses his lips to Keito's lightly. “Rather, think about it like this: if you can look at the scars littered over my body, that means I must still be alive. I was able get past whatever surgery resulted in the scars. They're my strength, Keito.”

“You don't need more scars. I don't want to hurt you, Eichi.”

“Have you ever heard this: you can live a life with no thorns if you choose not to love, but without love, you'll live a life without roses.” He grazes Keito's lips with his teeth. “I'll be alright, Keito, I'll keep living for you. That's why…” Their lips meet briefly, and it burns to Keito's pulse, like an electric current just went through him. “I don't want you to treat me like some porcelain doll.”

The mattress bends under Eichi's weight as he leans back to rest on his back, looking up at Keito with a look between expectation and curiosity for what he will do.

In a moment of pure impulse, Keito brings his lips to Eichi's shoulder, right where the scar starts. Without restraint, he moves further down, pressing his lip to the scar in an open mouthed kiss as he treks across the blonde's body.

He's tasting Eichi, through the sweat on his skin, his pulse, the way he can hear the blonde's breath quiver.

He'd wanted a taste—he'd always wanted to feel Eichi against his lips, so real and  _ there. _

He can't stop himself as his lips pass just above Eichi's belly button, tracing over the scar and continuing until they reach hemline of Eichi's pants.

It's Eichi's soft gasp that brings Keito back to reality, instantly raising his head to look at Eichi directly.

“Eichi, I'm not hurting you, am I?” he prods, urgently bringing his hands up over the hands Eichi holds against his lips. His eyes are screwed shut, and he looks fully ready to submit to Keito - that last thought scares Keito beyond belief, the thought that he might take Eichi and bruise him, taint the angelic figure he's come to worship.

“ _ God _ , Keito, if you stop, I'll—” he pauses for a moment to catch his breath. “I told you, if it's about hurting me, you don't need to worry.”

“I will worry, though,” Keito sighs. Nudging the collar of Eichi's shirt to the side with his nose, Keito lets his lips linger against the soft skin of the crook of Eichi's neck. “Is this what you want?” Eichi nods, like a temptress that forgotten herself. Parting his lips, Keito's brings his teeth to skim Eichi's skin.

If Eichi was noisy before, he's absolutely too loud now. “Keito,” he whimpers. “I can't tell if you're teasing me, or…” he trails off, eyes clouded with something like desire, a glean on his eyes that Keito can't pull away from.

Hesitantly, Keito sinks his teeth into the skin. The first thought that comes to mind—before anything about hurting or tainting Eichi—is the thought that he's making Eichi his, claiming him with his teeth as a branding iron, Eichi an eager target.

Something soft and shaky spills out of Eichi's lips like honey, some semblance of a moan that stills Keito for a moment, who instantly retracts himself.

“Are you okay—!? I'm sorry, let's just—”

“You're awful at this.”

“What?”

Eichi's legs move to loop around Keito's waist, as he pulls Keito closer to him by his tie.

“I'm alive, Keito, and I'm yours. Let me prove it to you.”

Before Keito can get in a word, Eichi is leaning up, connecting their lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Keito's tongue brushes against his teeth, and Eichi is quick to suck on it, drawing a slight gasp out of Keito. What Keito should've realized ages ago reaches as an epiphany—the realization that Eichi  _ wants  _ this. From how his arms loop around Keito's neck to pull him in closer, to how he cranes his chest towards Keito's hands—and Keito is only human, so he can't resist bringing his hands down to map out the curves of Eichi's body—all of it spells out  _ wanting. _

But it's not just that wanting, it's the feeling of Eichi being so wonderfully alive under Keito's touch, his pulse pounding sporadically and the blood that rushes to his face and chest, which Keito can see are a bright red when he pulls back for a short breath of air. When their lips reconnect, it's not quite graceful or sweet, but the life Keito finds waiting behind those lips, behind the way that they awkwardly rub against his own, is as enticing as the skin soft as silk under his fingertips.

“You're okay with this,” Keito starts once their lips part, the two of them panting. Eichi is laid out under him like some sort of exposé, all of his pale skin littered with scars, and for once, Keito finds himself relatively out of words.

“I want you to understand that I'm alive, Keito, I'm not some porcelain doll you need to handle with caution; I'm alive and I'm yours. I want you.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, catching his breath before continuing. “And I've been okay with this for a while, you know,” he huffs.

“Right, sorry. Waiting for me was probably a pain,” Keito says, leaning down again to press a kiss right where Eichi's heart should be—feeling it beating is a blessing, a feeling so soothing he can't help but let his lips linger.

“Hmm, kinda,” Eichi replies, rising his chest towards Keito. “But you only made me wait because you cared, so it's not like I can be too mad. It's not like I was ever 'mad’, actually, just frustrated. And even then, it was nice knowing that you care about me that much, Keito, so if it wasn't annoying, I may have even thanked you for it.”

“Heh, you're an angel like that, huh?” Another kiss is pressed to Eichi's chest, lips now parted to let his tongue trace over the skin.

“Aha, I am,” Eichi agrees. A feathery giggle falls past his lips, and he squirms slightly. “Ah, stop it. It tickles. P-Please, c'mon, stop it!”

Keito chuckles himself, a warm and rough, homely sound muffled against Eichi's chest. He moves his lips up the blonde's collarbone, licking a stripe across it. The way that Eichi draws in a sharp breath and how his breathing grows shaky and unsteady is nothing short of arousing to Keito.

“You're ticklish.” He can't help bringing his tongue up Eichi's neck closer to his ear, and Eichi's grip on his shirt tightens. “This kinda makes me regret holding back on you before. Thanks, Eichi; if you hadn't forced me into this, I would've never known.” A wet kiss graces the junction between Eichi's ear and jaw and he makes a noise similar to a pig squealing. “It's absolutely adorable.”

“Y-You're the worst,” Eichi manages, voice still breaking with giggles. He bucks his hips up against Keito, a slight smirk showing on his face when Keito's face turns red and he makes a quiet noise. “Payback's a bitch, huh?”

Keito, not ready for Eichi to overtake him like that, lets his lips bite down into the sensitive skin or his neck, managing to draw a bit of blood. The red hue takes him aback for a moment, a slither of fear running through him like a knife.

Until he looks up at Eichi's face, dyed red from the blood rushing there, a sign that he's enjoying this, that he isn't fragile or a doll, but a real person who _ wants  _ Keito.

Leaning back in, he laps at the blood gently. It seems to burn his tongue, it feels good like that—the feeling of love burning the back of his throat that makes him want to spit it back out.

“I love you.”

Eichi's eyes widen a fraction, he's treading in unfamiliar waters now, after all.

“Of course,” he starts, “I love you, too.”

“Then you're willing to be only mine, I assume?” He's pushing it, he knows, but Keito can’t resist the opportunity to have the blonde confirm it, that Eichi is only his, that he always has been.

_ His  _ friend,  _ his  _ protagonist,  _ his  _ inspiration,  _ his  _ lover, and just  _ his _ , period.

Eichi's soul is something too wild, too free-flowing to be contained like that, but sometimes, Keito is selfish, and can't help but wish.

“Why would you think otherwise?” Eichi responds. “I'm yours, and you're mine, it's always been like that, hasn't it?”

“If you were in my position you'd understand why I can't go assuming things like that with you.”

Eichi grins, all coy and cat-like, yet brimming with tender emotion, and Keito's heart might just burst. “Sorry, I'll try harder to make sure that you can understand me.”

“I'll try harder, too. I want to know everything about you, Eichi, so stop being stubborn.”

“You're the stubborn one, you tsundere.”

Grunting, Keito shoves his knee up against Eichi's crotch, and that shuts him up with the exception of the quiet whimper that falls past his lips.

“How far are we taking this?” Keito asks instead of replying.

“Whatever you're comfortable with, whatever feels right,” Eichi answers, closing his thighs around Keito's leg and grinding down against his knee. “Honestly, I wasn't really planning on you actually understanding what I wanted to tell you, so I didn't think we'd get this far.”

“Great to see how much faith you put in me. Maybe I might just leave you like this.”

“Noo, you meanie,” Eichi whines, hands moving to the back of his head to tangle through his hair. “I don't appreciate you teasing me like this and then pretending that you want to leave.”

“There's a lot of things you've done that I don't appreciate.”

“Really?” Eichi's smile is small, carrying a fake innocence. “Like…?”

“Forcing me into this, going off and nearly killing yourself at the drop of a hat, getting involved with that Hibiki—”

“What's wrong with Wataru?”

“He’s annoying. And he's a risk to your wellbeing.”

“You're jealous, aren't you?”

“What if I am?” Keito replies. “You said you were mine, didn't you?”

“I did, Keito. That's why you need to come claim me quick.”

“Claim you?” He looks down at the boy under him, and his eyes instantly focus in on the expanse of Eichi's neck, curse his brain.

Still, he can't help leaning down to suck at the skin. Taking it between his teeth and nibbling on it, he listens to Eichi's breathing, enjoying how the skin purples between his teeth.

“Nngh, Keito, I—”

He's cut off by Keito's mouth against his, needily swallowing any whimpers that Eichi produces.

“—I,” Eichi resumes once they part, “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He doesn't explain himself as he pushes Keito up into a sitting position and settles himself in the other boy's lap, shrugging his shirt off. His hands instantly go to unbutton Keito's shirt, who combs a hand through his hair and peppers his face with gentle kisses.

Even now, he can't help with these gentle shows of affection, and when Eichi pauses for a moment and closes to his eyes, smiling, Keito feels truly blessed.

Their lips meet just as softly as their first kiss, but Keito isn't afraid anymore, so he tilts his head further to try and get a better taste. Before he knows it, their pants and boxers are joining the pile, and Keito hardly pauses for a moment to wonder if this is alright.

Eichi has shifted off his lap, and now they lean against each other for balance as sit up so that their center of balance is at their knees. Their lengths brush against each other, a wonderful feeling in its own right, as their lips meet again.

It's not so much a kiss anymore as it is the two of them panting into each other's open mouths, but somehow, it manages to be so tender that it makes Keito's heart twist.

His hands trail down Eichi's back to land at the back of his thighs. Fingers dipping into the space between his thighs, he brushes the tips of his fingers against the soft skin, trailing up until Eichi whines into his mouth, a broken, needy sound that does about everything it could on Keito's restraint. His fingers trail up higher, just under the curve of his rear. The noise Eichi makes comes out half-choked sounding, and it's enough to make Keito groan back.

“ _ Please _ , don't tease me,” Eichi whimpers. “I-It’s embarrassing….”

Keito's fingers move up further, before he stops himself.

“I don't want to hurt you.” A disgruntled noise from Eichi. “Do you have, uh, lube?”

Eichi lets out a breath in relief. “Left end table. I prepared some lube and some condoms, just in case.”

Leaning over Eichi's shoulder, Keito reaches over to the table, finding the bottle. He pours some onto his fingers messily, his hands creeping around Eichi's backside to find his hole.

“And you're certain this is alright?” he asks, pressing a kiss to Eichi's temple.

“ _ Yes _ , I am,” Eichi keens.

Without further need for delay, Keito presses his finger in. It's a bit weird feeling Eichi clench around his fingers, but the soft moan that spills past Eichi's lips is enough to convince Keito to keep going.

“Are you alright?” Keito keeps his hand still, bringing his other hand up to trace circles on Eichi's back. “How does it feel?”

“It stings a bit, but… I'm fine, really.” He lets out another shaky breath before continuing. “You can move, it's not like I… haven't done this myself, you know.”

“You—  _ what _ ?”

“It was only a few times, but I,  _ ah _ ,” Keito accidentally shifts his finger, and Eichi makes a quiet noise. “I was thinking about you instead, but those were just daydreams; so even if it hurts a little now, I'm happy that you trust me enough to do this.”

Unbidden, the thought of Eichi fingering himself while moaning Keito's name comes to Keito's mind, and without thinking, he experimentally thrusts his finger, feeling Eichi shake against him. The sharp whine that tears past Eichi's throat is amazing, honestly—a little like a pepper (Keito's _ favorite _ ) in how it makes his face burn, and his chest feels stuffy, but he can't resist another bite.

“Is that good? Should I keep going?” he asks.

“Please do,” Eichi answers, the words coming out more like a sigh than a spoken statement.

Keito pushes his finger in again, stealing another moan out of Eichi's lips. Another thrust, and Eichi only gets louder.

“Can I put in a second finger?”

“Y-Yes, you may.”

Eichi's been rapidly losing composure, and now when he looks up to look Keito in his eyes, the other can see that pieces of hair are sticking to his mouth and that tears beading at the corner of his eyes.

Pulling back his finger, Keito inserts a second, before driving them back in slowly. A low whimper is muffled against Keito's shoulder.

“Are you alright? I'm not hurting you, am I?”

“I'm fine, just—” his breath hitches as Keito gently pulls back his finger and pushes them back in. “Please don't stop.”

Keito thrusts his fingers a few more times before slowly parting them. Something sounding like a  _ yes _ spills from Eichi's lips, and Keito continues. Scissoring his fingers slightly inside of Eichi, he makes sure not to move too abruptly.

Eichi brings his hand up to cup Keito's cheek, bringing him into a kiss. When Keito's fingers move again, Eichi moans against his lips, a sweet noise that goes straight to his dick.

Continuing his motions, he brings his other hand up to card it through Eichi's hair, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

“You’re beautiful, Eichi. More beautiful than angels, or sunsets, or music, or anything else. You're like something out of a dream, but even so…” he lets out a low groan before continuing. “Dreaming about you can't compare to the real you, Eichi.”

He can feel Eichi's lips curve into a smile against his shoulder. The blonde purrs softly, breath steadying a bit.

Keito slips the third finger in without asking, leaning down to press another kiss to Eichi's temple.

Slumped against Keito, Eichi tries to regain his breath, every sound that leaves his mouth coming out as a whine or moan.

“Good boy, good boy,” Keito coos. “You're doing great. Nothing hurts, right? You can tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I-I'm fine, thank you,” Eichi responds. “Actually, it's alright if you want to go further. I think I'm ready.”

Keito thinks about it for a moment, about how good it'll feel, about how he's taking this from Eichi. “Eichi, don't force yourself. This isn't something we can walk away from or pretend never happened, so I don't think we should go this far unless you're absolutely su—”

“And what about you?” Eichi interjects. “Who's going to take care of you?”

“It doesn't matter if I get off or not,  _ you're  _ what really matters.”

Eichi lifts his head, pursing his brow and frowning. “What if I want you to regard me as an equal? I'm not above you, or weaker than you, or anything, Keito. I love you—I want to make you happy and stay by your side—isn't that enough? You don't need to protect me or put me on a pedestal, I'm happy as long as I'm with you.”

There's something desperate in Eichi's eyes—he doesn't want a repeat of their past fights during those times when Keito had coddled Eichi, those times when Keito had purposefully put up a wall between them, when he had treated Eichi like a glass figure.

This isn't about sex, Keito knows, it's about breaking the barriers between them, and if that means he'll have to go this far to prove to Eichi that he understands, then so be it.

“I—  I'm sorry. Just let me take this slowly, alright?”

He pulls his fingers out of Eichi, wiping them against his thigh before gently pushing Eichi down. Looking down at the blonde under him, he can't help bringing his lips to kiss his forehead. He peppers kisses over the blonde’s face—his cheek, nose, chin, jaw, lips—before moving down to his neck, dotting the skin with gentle kisses as his lips brush over Eichi's collarbone and shoulders. A featherly laugh slips out of Eichi as Keito's lips meet his chest and stomach. Once the kisses are centered around the inside of his thighs, the laugh gains a new melody, something more desperate as he squeezes his thighs around Keito's head.

“Keito.”

And Keito laughs, too. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn't help it, you're so soft.”

“It’s fine, just,” Eichi's hand reaches down to stroke Keito's hair as he responds, “having your head right between my thighs really isn't good for my heart right now.”

Keito treats himself with a few nips at the soft skin, almost not wanting to leave the sanctuary it provides. “Alright, alright, sorry. I'll get on with it.”

Pulling himself away, he reaches over Eichi to get a condom, tearing the packaging before rolling it on. He pours some more lube into his palm, bringing it down to spread it over his length. It feels kind of awkward to do this as Eichi stares at him from below, but he doesn't stop until he's sure what he has will be sufficient.

“How do you want to do this?” he asks once he's done. “Do you want to wrap your legs around my waist?”

Eichi nods, letting Keito pull his legs into position. Once he's lined up, Keito slowly pushes himself in. He can feel Eichi flinch, and pauses for a moment, before Eichi urges him on with a whisper.

Once his hips meet Eichi's, he stops moving entirely.

“Are you alright?”

Eichi sighs shakily. “Yeah, I, ah, just give me a moment.”

Keito nods, intertwining the fingers of both his hands with Eichi's, forming a frame around Eichi's head. Keito leans down to kiss him softly, shutting his eyes for a moment as he focuses on nothing but the feeling of it  _ Eichi _ . The softness of his lips, how his eyelashes tickle Keito, how he seems to pulse around Keito—he wants to imprint everything into his mind.

Eichi smiles against his lips, giggling once they part. “You can move.”

Opening his eyes, Keito looks down over Eichi's chest, littered with bite marks courtesy of Keito himself, and nods. Pulling his hips back, he gives Eichi a moment to brace himself before pushing it back in, faster than before. A choked moan falls from Eichi's lips, and Keito moans back. Again, he pulls back before pushing himself back in, watching Eichi fall apart underneath him.

The feeling of Eichi pulsing around him is beyond addicting, the same as how  _ alive _ he feels, it's almost too much.

“How do you feel?”

Eichi swallows. “Good, Keito, don't worry. If something hurts too much I'll tell you, I promise.”

Keito can feel himself start to slip, the next thrust of his hips being rougher than he'd meant for it to be, but Eichi doesn't complain—no, he practically mewls, throwing his head back against the mattress.

“You feel so good, Eichi,” he groans, shoving his hips forward again. “You're so pretty, like an angel. This feels good, right? Tell me if you want me to do something differently, I want to make you feel good so that I can hear you.” He's beyond the point of true reason, but it's not like Eichi minds, face turning even redder when he hears Keito.

“Y-You don't have to hold back,” Eichi sighs, squeezing his legs to tighten his grip of Keito's waist. “Please keep going just like this.”

Instead of a verbal response, Keito thrusts his hips, harder than he had before. Eichi tightens his grip on Keito's hand, digging his nails into the skin. In his frenzy, Keito leans down to press his lips to Eichi's skin, sloppily kissing whatever skin he can find. When he moves over a nipple, Eichi arches his back, moaning even louder.

Keito is starting to lose his rhythm, the slam of his hips against Eichi's erratic and unbalanced, but it's not like he particularly minds. Not that he can mind, not when Eichi whines desperately whenever Keito's pace gets too slow for his liking—and especially not when Eichi's voice raises an entire octave once Keito increases his pace, a desperate moan that curls into the air like steam off tea, that sounds more pornographic than anything Keito could ever hope to hear in a hentai.

This side of Eichi is his alone. Only Keito gets to watch the reigning tyrant of the academy fall apart underneath him, submitting to Keito with a glorious symphony of moans.

Something sounding like a  _ more _ tumbles from Eichi's lips, and Keito stops moving completely.

“You're getting pretty desperate, giving me orders like that.” He focuses on the way Eichi twitches under him, face red and bangs askew. “I’ll fulfill them if you obey my orders.”

“Which would be?” Eichi's eyes are blown wide, their blue depths a stormy sea that Keito is more than willing to drown in.

“Tilt your neck to the side.”

Eichi does as ordered, bearing the pale skin that Keito has yet to mark to the boy over him.

“Yes, just like that,” Keito sighs against the skin, watching goosebumps form over the pale expanse. “You're absolutely beautiful like this.” He nips at the skin almost playfully, not giving Eichi the full satisfaction of being claimed.

“P-Please.”

Even like this, Keito is still weak to Eichi, and hearing his voice so quiet and shy is no exception. “Cute,” he mutters, fully biting into Eichi.

It's like he's set off a bomb, the moan that escapes Eichi acting the eruption that melts Keito's heart to goo.

“Do you like this? Tell me, Eichi.”

Eichi's reply is spoken in shaky whisper. “I-I do, Keito.”

“Good boy,” Keito smiles. He retracts his lips from Eichi's neck, giving the other boy a quick one over, before drawing his hips back and slamming them in again abruptly.

The moan that Eichi produces at that is absolutely lavish, coated in need and love and everything else it needs to get Keito hooked on it. His hands tremble, clutching onto Keito's almost painfully.

“Keito, Keito, Keito,” he chants, before his mantra is swallowed by Keito as their lips meet.

“I love you,” he breathes once they part, punctuating his with another push of his hips.

“I-I love you, too, Kei—” his breath hitches, “Keito.”

His eyes are like diamonds, reflecting every ounce of love shared between them, and Keito can't help leaning down to press his lips to his neck.

“Thank you for being mine, Eichi,” he speaks against the skin. Baring his teeth, he bites down roughly, the word  _ mine _ reverberating through his head.

Eichi is  _ his _ .

“Keito, I—” he's cut off by his own moan, white coating their stomachs as he reaches his climax.

Keito is quick to follow, slamming his hips against Eichi's one more time before coming.

Coming down from their high, they lean into each other, panting, hearts beating a frenzy in their chest. Keito closes his eyes, leaning down to rest his forehead against Eichi's as he slowly pulls out.

“Are you okay, Eichi?” he asks, a note of worry in his voice that he knows will frustrate Eichi, but he can't help it.

Except Eichi isn't frustrated, instead smiling up at Keito. “Yes, I'm fine. Just a bit overwhelmed.”

“That's good.” He runs a hand down Eichi's side to comfort him, not bothering to take off the condom or go get something to clean them with. “These kinds of things can be taxing on anyone, and the last thing I want is to hurt you.”

“No, no, Keito, thank you for experiencing that with me. I don't think I'd be comfortable doing something like that for the first time with  _ anyone  _ else.”

“Thank you for trusting me, then,” Keito leans down to press a kiss over Eichi's stomach, feeling the way that Eichi seems to flutter under him.

“Keito, that  _ tickles. _ ”

“I know, I wasn't lying when I called it cute. I think it'll be easier to get you stop being a hindrance like this.” He moves up to rest his forehead against Eichi's. “Anyways, we, uh, need to clean up and eat, right?”

“That's right, Keito. I'll give you the choice, so be sure to put your all into your answer. Your choices are…” he leans up to whisper into Keito's ear, “... dinner, a bath, or cuddles.”

“Is that play on the 'do you want dinner, a bath, or me?’ troupe?”

“Yep!” Eichi laughs gleefully. “But you just got  _ me _ , so I had to change it up a bit.”

“What if I want you again?” Keito asks, pushing himself up to look at Eichi, only now remembering how nice it is to have the blonde pinned under him.

Eichi's face lights up a brilliant shade of red, his smug look being replaced by something surprised and flustered. “W-What?” he squeaks. “You aren't serious, you… I mean, i-if you really want to, I guess I could…”

“Jo~king,” Keito sings-songs, pressing a kiss to Eichi's neck. “We can do that another time; I'm too worn-out right now, and you'd probably pass out.”

“I miss it when I was the tease, it's not good for my heart when you're like this,” Eichi grumbles. “And you know I don't like it when you mention me getting hurt.”

Keito waves off Eichi's grumblings, eyes instead trained over the marks littering his chest.

Eichi notices. “Are they, um, visible?”

“Very,” Keito nods. “You bruise more easily than I thought you would.”

“Hey, you're just rough! You're gonna be the one putting concealer over the bites.”

“Right, I know.” Keito pulls back slightly, spreading Eichi's legs a bit to expose his inner thighs. “You have some markings down here, too.”

“Oh, god,” Eichi groans. “Now I can't even change during practice.”

“Boxers,” Keito says simply, leaning back up to press kisses on the marks spread out over Eichi's shoulders. “They don't go that low.”

Eichi nods, his chin hitting Keito's forehead, to which Keito grumbles under his breath.

“Okay. I think I would die if my unit mates noticed all these marks. Imagine: Eichi Tenshouin - cause of death: embarrassment over hickeys.”

“Aw, I kinda liked marking you. But if you don't want me to, I'm fine with that.”

“No, I like the idea of you marking me, but not the idea of other people finding out.”

“Isn't that the entire appeal of it, though? Letting everyone know that someone belongs to you, I mean.”

“ _ No _ .” Eichi says pointedly. “Keito, you're gonna make me flustered, I hate it.”

“I like it.”

“Shut up.” Eichi doesn't wait to see if Keito is listening, tangling his fingers in Keito's hair to pull the other down so their lips can meet. Once they part, he still doesn't let go. “You need to make a decision: bath, dinner, or cuddles.”

“I think…” he trails off, watching how Eichi's lips move with each soft exhalation. “I think I'd like a bath, then dinner, then cuddles.”

The corners of Eichi's lips curve upwards into a smile, not pronounced and hardly there, but just enough to make Keito's heart ache.

“As you wish, darling.”

Keito chuckles quietly, pushing himself off of the bed so that he can offer a hand.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

Eichi giggles as he takes Keito's hand, watching Keito kiss each finger before surprising him with a kiss of his own as the other lifts his head.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.”

It's unfair how Keito's entire facade can be broken down by just hearing that tone of Eichi's voice, the one so sincere that it makes his chest throb and his ears burn.

Keito stands, pulling Eichi up with him.

It's not as though he had ever  _ not  _ trusted Eichi— it was himself who he didn't trust, but he's not sure Eichi will understand, so instead, he focuses on portraying what he can.

“Thank you for waiting.”

A light giggle passes through Eichi's lips. “Forever and always, Keito. Until I die—”

“—And I send your soul to Heaven. I'll love you even then, Eichi, so even if I stumble again, please keep waiting, I'll fix myself everytime if it's for you.”

“I'll wait for you, I promise.”

And just that one sentence—spoken in a voice so faint it might be scattered by the winds, from a body so frail the brush of a finger might shatter it—is enough to bring Keito comfort.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you imagine Keito being completely driven by Eichi's reactions that he purposefully does things to surprise or fluster him because he finds it cute,,,


End file.
